Don't Say
by Falling April
Summary: [postRENT] Maureen and Joanne want a child, so how do they go about it? They convince Mark to sleep with Joanne. [oneshot]


**Disclaimer:** No, still not Jon Larson. I'll let y'all know if that ever changes.

* * *

**Don't Say…**

"I can't believe you talked me into this." Mark stated with a glare. Joanne, who had answered the door, raised an eyebrow.

"Well hello to you, too." She said to his back as he stalked inside the apartment she shared with Maureen. Maureen poked her head out of the bedroom as Mark practically threw himself on the couch, a scowl firmly fixed on his face.

"Is he here? Good! I'll just grab my bag." She disappeared into the bedroom again. "I'm staying with Lisa and Greg tonight, and I won't be back until sometime tomorrow." She added, her voice muffled by the walls. Joanne sat on the other end of the couch, looking more than a bit awkward. Maureen emerged a moment later, overnight bag in hand, and gave Joanne a quick kiss. "Have fun you two," she said with a smirk. "But not _too_ much fun." She added, and with a wave she flew out the door. Mark and Joanne were alone.

The silence was deafening, and Joanne shifted uncomfortably as Mark continued to stare stonily at the wall across from him. He was scared, and didn't particularly want to be doing what he was doing. Maureen and Joanne had approached him about a week before with a dilemma: They wanted a child, and they couldn't afford to pay for artificial insemination. ("And anyway," Maur had said, "Who _knows_ what kind of men donate sperm to those sperm banks!") Their solution? To have one of them sleep with a trusted male friend. The male friend they chose was Mark.

Joanne cleared her throat and Mark was stirred from his thoughts. He glanced over at the nervous-looking woman and realized that she probably wasn't exactly relishing this either; Joanne, the staunch lesbian who'd never so much as _looked_ at a guy twice, sleeping with one in order to have a child with her lesbian lover.

"So…" Mark said finally. "How exactly should we go about this?"

"I suppose we go into the bedroom and keep the lights off," Joanne replied slowly.

"Sounds good to me."

* * *

Things gradually started to get better after that first awkward night. It was still strange, but both parties involved began to get used to the two nights a week that Maureen would force Mark to come over. They started having dinner beforehand, usually with alcohol, as it helped them to relax, which helped things be a little less… awkward. Then there were about 5 days when Mark wasn't allowed to come over, and then he got the call that Joanne had been on her period, which meant they had to keep trying.

"So, what's going on at work?" Mark asked one evening while he helped Joanne prepare dinner before they retreated to the bedroom.

"Nothing exciting. People suing each other left and right, messy divorces and custody battles." Joanne sighed, an unspoken feeling of 'what is the world coming to?' passing between them. Joanne began cutting the carrots with a little too much energy, sending tiny orange flecks flying everywhere. Mark glanced up and repressed a chuckle – or at least _tried_ to, rather poorly. "What?" Joanne queried, arching an eyebrow.

"You have carrot…" he shook his head and, with a smile, reached over to brush a fleck of orange from her cheek. His hand lingered for a moment, and their eyes locked, both of them frozen in place. Then suddenly, Mark dropped his hand, a blush creeping up his neck, and Joanne tried valiantly to ignore the warmth in her ears, indicating a blush of her own, wondering vaguely why she could still feel Mark's hand on her cheek.

The next night they were together, Mark put candles on the table during dinner. The time after that, Joanne turned on a Frank Sinatra CD while Mark was getting the silverware. In those nights, the sex suddenly became more than just "get it over with".

They lay in bed together one night for a long time afterward, Mark's arms around Joanne's waist, their bodies pressed close together.

"Jo?" he said softly, using the nickname she'd allowed him to use.

"Hmm?" she replied sleepily.

"I…" Mark gulped a little. "I think I might be—"

"Stop." Joanne was suddenly wide awake, and she rolled over so she was facing him. "I know what you're going to say Mark. Don't say it."

"But why?" Mark asked, frustration creasing his features. Joanne laughed shortly and without humor.

"Why? Think about it Mark. Really _think_ about it. We're from two different worlds."

"Hardly!" He protested. "You're partners with Maureen, we've been friends for nearly three years—"

"Yes, but what _of_ Maureen?" she cut him off. "I love her, Mark. That's why we're doing this: because I love _her_."

"I… I know." Mark sighed.

"If you say anything, we'll have to decide where that leaves us when this experiment is successful." Joanne looked pleadingly into Mark's eyes. "Just…don't say anything. Please." Mark pursed his lips and nodded slowly.

"Alright." He agreed. Then he kissed her softly and slipped out of bed to dress and go home.

* * *

"Let's not jump to any conclusions." Joanne insisted to an ecstatic Maureen. "Let me take the test first, okay?" Maureen nodded wordlessly and clutched Mark's hands.

"Oh, Marky, do you think it could really be happening?" she asked, breathless.

"I don't know, I'm too distracted by the pain in my fingers." He muttered, but Maureen was oblivious. She bounced impatiently, her vise-like grip removing all feeling below Mark's knuckles. Then, finally, the bathroom door opened…

"Two lines." Joanne said simply, holding up the home pregnancy test with a smile. Maureen squealed and briefly threw her arms around Mark before transferring her affections to her now-pregnant lover.

"Oh we have to go shopping, and get you some cute maternity clothes, and…" Maureen rambled on, but Mark hardly heard any of it. He just watched Joanne smile lovingly at the irrepressible bundle of energy before her, and he realized with a small shock that the child even now growing in Joanne's body was _his_. "Oh, we have to go do some of this right now, I'll get my shoes and purse!" Maureen rushed to the bedroom.

"M-mazel tov." Mark said softly.

"Thanks." Joanne replied. Maureen came rushing back out, not noticing the awkward silence that was passing between Mark and Joanne.

"Okay, let's go!" Maureen said brightly. When Joanne didn't seem to hear, she playfully poked her belly. "Hey, you gonna come or just sit around with Mark while he cuts film?"

"No, I'm coming, Honey-bear." Joanne turned and smiled at Maureen, and quickly grabbed her purse off the table.

"Alright, _good_!" Maureen laughed. "Bye, Mark!" she called over her shoulder, and Mark locked eyes with Joanne for a split second over Maureen's head before the door slammed shut. Mark sighed deeply.

"Goodbye."


End file.
